


Across the Atlantic

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: After Gander, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Diane POV, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Falling In Love, Holding Hands, Insomnia, London, Musicals, Sharing a Bed, Stranded, They didn't kiss in Gander, falling asleep together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-09-27 05:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: Diane had thought that once they left Gander, things would be easier. When their flight is denied permission to land in Dallas, they have no choice but to return to their point of departure - Paris, leaving Diane stranded again, even further from home with no real prospect of returning for at least a week. Nick's offer for her to stay with him are met with gratitude, but Diane is also mindful of the unresolved tension between them. How will the week pan out, given all the stresses on their relationship?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

Diane gripped the arms of her seat. She’d spent the whole flight – and more – with an anxious edge to every breath. Their pilot waited until they boarded before announcing that they had not been cleared to land in Dallas, and so she had no choice but to return to their point of origin. Paris. The emotional response in the cabin was immediate and intense. Some people were angry, many were in shock; more than one person burst into tears, including their flight attendant. Diane was stunned. She hadn’t expected to be heading further from home, but knowing her family was safe made it easier. Not everyone had that same luxury. Some around her had more visceral responses, and Diane found herself shrinking a little into her seat as someone behind her began shouting at the flight attendant. Several passengers jumped to her defence and for a moment Diane worried that punches might be thrown.

Sitting beside her, Nick must have seen how she reacted, because his arm eased around her shoulders. He didn’t speak – the noise behind them would have made it difficult – but Diane appreciated it nevertheless. She fought her instinct to sink into him, instead allowing herself just a small measure of relaxation. Diane didn’t want to seem indifferent, especially given how intense their relationship had grown, but she knew if she let herself express too much, it might flood out and ruin what they had tentatively built.

The flight had been more or less the same as she thought it might, though with more of a tense atmosphere than if they had been heading for Dallas. For Diane, it didn’t matter – things were tense in her head anyway. She and Nick talked a little, and his arm remained around her shoulders until their meal was served. The underlying tension between them, that stopped their eyes meeting and made their conversation dance around personal topics, about what they might do when they went back to their lives, pushed her almost to breaking point.

She wanted, desperately needed, to reach out, but it felt like the moment had passed her by. Memories of their last walk up to the Dover Fault were wonderful in some ways, but there were so many moments where she almost said something, and looking at Nick – her eyes barely left him – he had been the same, his eyes following her as she moved restlessly around the lookout. But she hadn’t found the words, and neither had he.

And now they were touching down at Charles de Gaulle airport, still avoiding each other’s eyes. Diane’s stomach churned with nerves. The cabin was silent as they taxied. It was odd; Diane had assumed there would be cheers when they landed, but instead there was a low murmuring as people talked to their seatmates, anxious ripples of sound running through the cabin. Diane and Nick stood with the rest of the passengers, waiting for the doors to open. There were a lot of drawn expressions, the stress of their current situation painting itself on everyone’s faces.

“Thank you,” Diane said to the flight attendant as they finally reached the doors. She was crying, trying to smile at each person as they passed.

“If you stay in the lounge we’ll tell you what’s going on,” the flight attendant told them.

Diane smiled tightly and gripped her hand. This wasn’t easy for anyone. She and Nick found a spot in the lounge, waiting tensely for information about what happened next. It was surreal, even given the events of the previous week. She was in another city, not her home country, waiting for someone to tell her when she could go home.

“Oh God,” she said quietly. It wasn’t over.

She felt Nick look down at her. But she didn’t look back at him, not able to connect to that emotion without connecting to all the rest swirling inside her. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, drawing on what reserves she had. Again, he wrapped one arm around and this time she leaned into him more. His quiet compassion was so careful and considerate she felt tears rise. How would she go back to her life? Life without his presence felt like it would be difficult. Colder, emptier, even in the familiarity from before Gander.

The tears fell, and she let them, the relief of permitting some small measure of emotion allowing her to cope with the moment. Nick didn’t ask her if she was okay – it would be a ridiculous question – but his arm tightened a little around her shoulders, and she knew he’d noticed. He was still aware of her, she thought. Was it in the same way as she was aware of him?

No. Or maybe…

She didn’t have a chance to examine the thought, because the captain of their flight strode out, taking the microphone and asking for quiet. The group fell into a tense anticipation as she spoke.

“Hello everyone. I am sorry I wasn’t able to take you back to Dallas.” She smiled tightly, and her voice changed a little. “My family is in Dallas, I know how much you all want to get back over there.”

It was a wise move, Diane thought; showing her own vulnerability to try and defuse some of the tension in the group, and it had worked. Shoulders relaxed and frowns smoothed somewhat.

“Now I’ve spoken to American Airlines, and the problem is that there are so many flights trying to get back into American airspace and there’s just not room for them all. So, there are two options.” She took a deep breath, and Diane instinctively knew this would not be good news. Nick pulled her a little closer, and she wrapped her own arm around his waist, wanting to be closer, not caring about anyone else right now.

“American Airlines will not be replacing the flight we were on. So, the first option is you can put your name on the standby list for other flights into the US. If you feel that you have humanitarian reasons for being listed as a priority, you can let them know, but be aware that a lot of people want to get back there, and there are only so many flights going in. It will take time for everyone to get a seat, and we don’t have any control over the FAA.”

“What’s the other option?” someone shouted impatiently.

“The other option,” the pilot said, “is to take a credit from American Airlines. It will be valid for a flight from any city in the EU to any city in the US, provided a seat is available. But,” she said, as murmuring began, “it won’t be valid for a week.”

“What?” someone said. Diane blinked, waiting for the explanation.

“You’re basically agreeing to stay in Europe for a week,” the pilot explained. “Everyone’s trying to get on flights, but if some people agree to wait a bit, it will make it easier to manage. Whatever you decide, you’ll need to see the American Airlines desk in the next day or so. Show them your boarding pass and passport and they’ll sort it out for you.”

Diane nodded, and like many of the people around her she turned away from the front desk, thoughts swirling through her head as she weighed the options. She stepped back a little, her arm still holding her to Nick’s waist. That side of her body would feel cooler without him there, when they did separate. She didn’t examine it too closely.

“Do you want to get a coffee?” Nick asked her. “I don’t know…do you have an idea of what you want to do?”

Diane looked at him properly for the first time since they’d boarded the plane in Canada. “I want to go home,” she whispered, and the tears overwhelmed her.

She and Nick moved as one, their one armed embrace morphing as they turned towards each other. She wrapped her other arm around him as she cried, and felt his arms come around her, too. She had no idea what else was happening, but right now her grief was all she could see. The stress of being in another city, even further from home, unable to get there; the nightmare of this wasn’t over. Not even close. And even though she had Nick this time, she didn’t really have him, not really; it was almost more stressful having that to deal with on top of the rest.

When she’d finally finished, Diane pulled back, wiping her eyes with a tissue she found in her pocket. “Sorry,” she said. “Just…all this. It’s a lot.”

“Yes,” Nick said. They walked together to a coffee shop, full of people Diane recognised from Gander or the plane. There were a lot of intense conversations, she could see. So many people with big decisions to make…

“Wait here,” Nick said. She watched him wait patiently, as though he had all the time in the world. From the smile he bestowed on the cashier, and the cadence of his voice, he ordered their coffees in fluent French. Diane was impressed, and when he returned with their cups, she told him.

“Learned at school,” he said. “I travel from Paris a lot these days, so I actually use it.”

“Well, it’s more than I know,” she told him. “Just a bit of Spanish, but not enough for a conversation.”

When they sat down – somewhat distant from the bustling coffee shop – Nick asked tentatively, “Do you have an idea of what you’ll do now?”

Diane shook her head, tears threatening again as she cradled her coffee cup. “I want to get home,” she said again. “But I know there are a lot more people with more pressing reasons to get on a plane. And I don’t know if I can live in the airport, not knowing when I might be leaving again.”

“Too much like Gander?” Nick asked.

“Exactly,” she said, relieved that he understood. She sipped tentatively at her coffee. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find accommodation, though,” she said. “I’m guessing there are a lot of people stuck here, and I didn’t exactly plan to have another week to pay for.” She wasn’t poorly off, but another week of accommodation and other holiday costs was not something for which she had budgeted.

Nick nodded, his expression tense.

“What will you do?” Diane asked. “I guess you don’t really need the return flight.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t know. Work paid for my ticket, so I suppose I should leave it with them to work it out. I suspect there will be a lot of people trying to figure those things out.” He looked at his coffee. “I think I’ll take some leave, though. I’ve been telling them I need to travel less. It’s too stressful, and I’m mindful of my heart.”

Diane nodded. “So you’ll return to London, then?” she tried to sound casual, but knew she failed miserably. Nick would leave, heading back to London on the train, presumably, and she would be alone in Paris. The idea might have been welcome before Gander, but now it sounded incredibly lonely. Pushing back tears again, she waited for Nick’s reply.

“Probably,” he agreed. She nodded, the tears winning the battle and sliding down her cheeks. “Although,” he said carefully, “if you,” he cleared his throat, “and this probably sounds quite odd, but hear me out.” He sounded so nervous that Diane looked up, meeting his eyes. They were wide, searching hers for something before he spoke.

“You could come and stay at my flat,” Nick blurted, his face flushing as he continued hastily, “I’m sure every major city will have accommodation problems, and if you can get a flight home from anywhere, London does have three international airports. And it wouldn’t cost you anything to stay with me. If you wanted to. I mean, I have space…” his voice trailed off and Diane thought she saw him wince.

Impulsively, she covered his hand with her own. “Yes please,” she whispered, unable to put into words how much his kindness meant. It wasn’t only the surface kindness; she was honest enough with herself to admit that the idea of another week spent with Nick would be wonderful, comforting, familiar. A whole lot of things she really needed right now. Plus the possibility of seeing how their closeness might develop was admittedly alluring. “If I wouldn’t be imposing, I mean you’ll be at home, if you’re not at work?”

“Yes,” Nick said, “assuming they approve my leave, but I can’t see them saying no after all this.” He hesitated, then covered her hand with his. “I’d like you to stay,” he said quietly. “If it’s what you want.”

A flush of warm relief flowed through Diane, and she sat for a moment, appreciating how lucky she was.

“Well we’d better join the line at American,” she said. “I’m sure it will be horrendous.”

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “I have no idea if we’ll get seats on the train for today, but best to get started.”

By the time they’d lined up for over three hours – there were several American Airlines flights in the same situation, and it seemed to be agonisingly slow to process everyone through ticketing and customs – Nick and Diane were exhausted. Nick had paperwork to give to his boss so they could argue about them paying for a ticket Nick hadn’t used. Diane was holding a promise ticket. The ticket agent had told her she would have to contact a travel agent to organise herself onto a flight. It couldn’t be organised from Charles de Gaulle as she wasn’t planning on flying from there. Right now, Diane didn’t care. As long as she was free to go, she just wanted to get back to somewhere she could sit down again.

They made it through customs and headed directly for the train terminal. Diane allowed Nick to lead, holding onto her suitcase with one hand and his hand with the other. It was comforting, knowing he was there, feeling the weight of his hand in hers. He obviously knew where he was going, and she was exhausted and overwhelmed by the crowds, the language and the unfamiliar locations. There was a train, then another station, and Nick was talking to someone about another train; Diane realised they were at Gare de Nord. Still in Paris, then. Nick turned, giving her a smile, and when he returned he showed her two tickets.

“Train for London leaves in twenty minutes,” he told her. “Long enough to get something to eat if you’re hungry?”

“I don’t think I am,” Diane said. She was too tired to be hungry.

“Okay,” Nick said, and she marvelled at how easily he took her hand, smiling at her as they made their way slowly to the Eurostar platform. It wasn’t long until the train arrived, and to Diane’s surprise, he led the way to the first class carriage.

“Really?” she said.

“Only the best,” he told her, then when she shot him a look he admitted, “and all they had left on this train.”

“I’ll have to pay you back when we get there,” Diane said. She frowned. “I’ll have to go to the bank. I don’t have any more pounds.”

“We’ll work it out,” Nick told her. They found their seats, stored their suitcases before sinking into their seats. Diane sighed with relief, closing her eyes for a moment. She felt Nick sit beside her, and without opening her eyes, she reached her hand out, relieved when he laced his fingers through hers almost immediately. It was natural now, an extension of the intimacy that had been growing during their time in Gander. She liked it and she liked it was becoming familiar.

“How long to London?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“Two and a half hours,” Nick murmured.

She opened her eyes, turning her head to look at him for a long moment. He was very close, and the air between them seemed filled with something new and more intimate. She didn’t know whether it was how tired she was, or the gratitude she felt that Nick was here with her, but it was comforting.

“You could sleep if you want,” Nick said. “Your seat reclines, you know.”

“I think I will,” she replied, feeling sleep stealing over her already. She smiled at Nick, hoping the trust she felt in him was evident in her eyes. She found the button to tilt her seat backwards. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Of course,” he replied.

She closed her eyes, letting herself drift away. Relaxing for the first time since they’d left Gander. It was because of Nick. He’d offered her such quiet support through the whole day, and when the uncertainly had reached its peak, he’d offered even more. The security of knowing where she would be staying until she could fly home, and that it would be with Nick was such a weight off her mind. Diane hadn’t realised quite how much anxiety had been draining her until it was lifted. And now she was exhausted, but sitting next to Nick, and he was holding her hand, and he was solid beside her. As the train slowly began moving, she let go and slipped into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

She was leaning against something, and it was not quite comfortable, but she didn’t want to let it go either.

“Diane,” a voice sounded close. She frowned, turning towards the comfort again, tightening her arm around whatever it was she was hugging.

“Diane,” it sounded again, stopping her dropping into sleep. “We’re in London.”

London.

_Nick._

With a start, Diane sat up, pulling her arm from around Nick’s waist as though out of a fire. “Sorry,” she murmured, blinking the sand from her eyes. “We’re here?”

“Yes,” Nick told her. His eyes were soft as she rolled her neck, wincing a little. “Are you okay?”

“A bit sore,” Diane said. “I’ll be fine.”

They stood, stretching, collecting their suitcases before making their way off the train. Again, Nick knew where he was going, and Diane was happy to follow him.

“Rain,” she said as Nick drove out of the long term parking. “It didn’t rain the whole time we were in Gander.”

“No,” Nick replied. “I wonder if that’s unusual?”

“I don’t know,” Diane said. “Lucky, either way. Strange timing.”

“Yes, I think it started raining before we took off,” Nick told her.

It was a good opportunity to watch him, Diane realised, as he was driving. Details she hadn’t noticed as closely were not clearer – the competence with which he drove, how he flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. The freckles flung across his cheeks. He really was remarkable attractive, she thought to herself.

“Here we are,” Nick said, and she could hear the tension in his voice. Was he nervous about having her here? He parked on the street, and they collected their suitcases before he lead the way into the foyer of his building. There was an elevator and a quiet foyer before Nick turned the key in his own front door.

Diane looked around, the quiet stillness of a space unused for a period of time settling over her. She followed as Nick moved around, switching on lamps and looking critically around the living space. “I don’t think I have anything to eat,” he said. “There’s a few good takeaways though, and we can go to Tesco tomorrow if you like.”

He stopped turning to look at Diane, and this time his nerves were clear. Her heart leapt. It obviously meant something to him, having her here.

“It’s fine,” she said. “You’ve been gone two weeks, I didn’t expect you to have much.”

“Let me show you where everything is,” Nick said. “Kitchen,” he said, pointing through one door. “Bathroom through here, and,” he faltered then swallowed, “bedroom.”

Diane nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

“There’s a fold out sofa,” he said hastily, “so you can, I mean, I didn’t think…” he trailed off into an embarrassed silence.

Diane, still feeling like everything was a little dreamy, smiled without speaking. It felt like a perfect reply to simply step closer to him, to smile again and hug him, and wait for him to hug her back. When they’d stood there for a dozen deep breaths, she spoke.

“I am so grateful for this,” she said. “For you inviting me here.”

She couldn’t look at him as she said it, but she wanted him to hear it. It was important, and she hadn’t yet told him.

“The sofa’s not very comfortable,” he said apologetically, arms still around her. “What I’m trying to say, I’ll sleep out here, of course.”

“Well,” Diane said, her voice shaking a little despite herself, “if it’s that bad, we should both sleep in there.” She nodded at his bedroom.

Nick’s breathing hitched, she could hear it, _feel _it. When it resumed it bore the careful depth of someone concentrating hard. “Are you sure that’s,” he swallowed, “alright?”

Diane took a couple of moments of her own. “It’s very quiet in here,” she said. “I don’t know how…I think I’m used to having company when I’m sleeping now.” She tried for a small laugh. “200 roommates was noisy.”

“It was,” Nick agreed.

His arms tightened on her, and she returned to gesture.

“We should eat something,” Diane said. “I can probably sleep again.” She frowned, looking at her watch. “What time is it?”

“Almost half eight,” Nick said. “I think London is ahead of Gander by a few hours.”

“Still,” Diane said. “I haven’t slept well in a while.”

“Me either,” Nick agreed.

“Is there somewhere you usually order from?” Diane suggested. “Anything you like, you must know what’s good.”

Nick agreed. “It won’t be long,” he told her. “There’s an Indian place down the road.”

“Thank you,” Diane said. She hesitated. “Would you mind…I’d like to call David, tell him what’s happening.”

“Of course,” Nick replied. “I’ll just call for our food first.”

His phone call was quick, and in a few moments, Diane was speaking with David. He was relieved she was alright, but couldn’t talk long. He did express his surprise that she was in London, however; teasing that she must have met someone if she was gallivanting all over Europe.

“Oh hush your mouth,” Diane told him. They talked for a few more minutes, and she promised to email him when she knew her flight details.

“Love you, Mom,” he said before they hung up.

A moment of silence, and Diane took herself off to the bathroom to pull her mind together. The small ritual of ablutions helped, and a few moments later she stared at herself in the mirror. What was she doing in England? This was the craziest week she’d ever had. And now she was staying in Nick’s flat, and she’d suggested they sleep in the same bed, for goodness sake. While it was true – she’d become used to the quiet susurrus of a lot of people sleeping in the large classrooms – she probably could have coped with him in the next room.

She just didn’t want to.

He’d slept close in Gander, and the idea of a wall between them was too much to bear right now. She needed him close, and if that mean the same bed, then fine. She was a grown up and so was he. They’d just have to make it work. Not that she could see Nick taking advantage of circumstances – he was almost old fashioned in his manners, something she’d appreciated deeply since they’d met.

Nick had found plates and cutlery and glasses of water while she’d been gone, the small kitchen table set waiting for their meal to arrive. Instead of the main lights he’d turned on several lamps and low corner lights. The effect was cosy, and Diane felt herself relax even more.

“Thank you,” Diane said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He was standing by the sink, arms crossed, eyes a million miles away. She wanted to ask what he was thinking, but couldn’t bring herself to. “David’s fine. I said I’d email him when I have my flight organised.”

“Of course,” Nick replied. “I’m glad he’s alright. Still in Florida?”

“He’s home now,” Diane said. “I don’t think he wants to fly for a while.”

Nick nodded in acknowledgement. “I called my boss,” he said. “Couldn’t get through, but I left a message. Explained about the flights…I hope she’ll be happy for me to take some leave.” He tried to smile. “I’ve not taken much in the past few years. It’s accumulated, I’m afraid.”

Diane nodded. “That’s a relief,” she said. Hopefully, Nick would be around for the week, then. Long lonely hours alone while he was at work did not sound appealing in the least. “Have you not had the opportunity to take a vacation?”

Nick glanced at her, amusement around his mouth. “A holiday, you mean?”

The gentle teasing about the differences in their language was as much a part of their relationship as anything else, and Diane felt warmth in her veins as she rolled her eyes. “If you like,” she said.

“I’m often busy at work,” he said. He looked down, and was about to say something else when there was a buzz from the door. He answered it, collecting their meal before returning to Diane. “I hope you like Indian,” he said almost apologetically.

“You’ve ordered enough for all of Gander!” Diane said with a laugh.

“I wasn’t sure what you preferred,” Nick said. “It will be alright tomorrow, if there’s any left over.”

“If?” Diane teased him. There were at least five main courses, plus rice, naan and some kind of deep fried samosa. “Exactly how much are you planning on eating?”

“I need to make up for the lack of toutons,” Nick told her. She smiled at him, and they quieted for a moment, looking through each dish and choosing what to add to their plates. It all smelled good and Diane remembered how long it had been since she’d eaten properly. Before she’d felt so safe, knowing where she would be and for how long. They took their plates to the table, and suddenly it felt far more intimate, sitting together in the quiet, dimly lit room, at a table so small their knees knocked underneath.

“This is really good,” Diane said once they’d started eating.

“I’m lucky it’s so close,” he agreed. “I don’t cook a lot.”

“I remember,” Diane replied. They’d talked about cooking several times, Nick admitting he didn’t have a lot of spare time; it was a catch-22 of him not having a lot of time and not being very experienced; as a result he ate out more than he probably would like. “Maybe we can cook together this week. If you’d like,” she added, feeling her face heat. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was trying to push him into anything, or take over…

“That would be excellent,” he said. He flicked her a sideways glance as he said, “maybe we can find some recipes for the food they made us in Gander.”

“Not cod tongue,” Diane retorted immediately, and they both laughed.

“That fish with cheese wasn’t too bad,” Nick mused.

“We’ll have to see what they have at the grocery store,” Diane said.

“The supermarket,” Nick corrected with a grin.

Diane rolled her eyes. “Maybe we should find a proper market,” she said. “You know, actual freshly caught-”

“Cod?” Nick finished for her with a grin.

“No,” Diane said. “But other fish, maybe. It’s easy to cook. Even you could probably manage it.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at her, and they lapsed into a contented silence as they ate.

“That was excellent,” Diane said finally. She’d eaten more than she had in a couple of days, and she was comfortably full. “You are lucky having them so close.”

Nick smiled at her over his water glass.

They tidied up the kitchen together and when it was done Diane braced for the awkwardness to set in, but Nick just said, “Why don’t you use the bathroom while I start to unpack?”

Diane agreed, taking a shower, breathing deeply the smell of her own shampoo, soap, toothpaste. It felt much more like she was herself now, even if she was in a strange country, preparing to get into bed with someone she didn’t know a week ago. That was very unlike the Diane from Before. She was starting to think of her life as Before and After, and this Diane, the Diane of After, made decisions in a much different way. She wasn’t a risk taker, but she was far more open to new things, and look where it had lead her. Certainly, Diane from Before would not have been here.

Finally, she stepped out of the bathroom, a little self-conscious in her pyjamas, relieved she’d packed a robe. David had teased her for it, but she was much more comfortable moving around with her robe, and as she’d pointed out, it was her suitcase, she could fill it with anything she wanted to. Now, she was glad for the extra layer. She already felt a little vulnerable in her pyjamas, as though this was more of a true representation of herself that the borrowed clothes and donated toiletries of their time in Gander.

Nick was sitting on the end of the bed, looking at something in his hand.

“The bathroom’s free,” Diane said quietly, not wanting to startle Nick.

He turned to her, offering a quick smile. “I was just looking at the photos I took in Gander,” he said. He offered her the camera. “Would you like to see?”

“Oh, sure,” Diane replied. She took the camera, sitting carefully on the bed beside him.

“Scroll through,” he told her, standing up and stepping into the bathroom. Diane looked through, smiling at the familiar shopfronts and some people she recognised. There was a photo of her, which surprised her; she was in the bar, wearing a bright yellow hat and beaming. The screech in, she remembered. Not her finest hour, although her memory was a little patchy from that night. She’d pulled Nick into that without asking. He’d been a bit strange the following morning but seemed to get over it which had been a relief.

Scrolling past some of the amazing scenery, she marvelled that they’d been there. It already felt like a lifetime ago, as vacations often did. The last few photos she recognised, and her thumb lingered as she studied the images. The Dover Fault. Their last day in Gander, at the top of that gorgeous lookout, neither of them appreciating it for the tension between them. Diane had looked, of course, but she had been so aware of Nick that she’d barely taken in the swirls of fog, the way the land rose up from the water in rolling waves of rock in Nick’s photos.

Now, she looked, wondering if she’d ever have the chance to go back. She already missed it; perhaps that would be something for which to plan. Some way to recapture the moments of almost with Nick. Scrolling, she finally reached the last image, and her breath caught in her throat. It was taken at the Fault, but the focus wasn’t the stunning scenery.

It was her.

She was standing in the middle of the shot, framed by the tall mast that centred the lookout; the fog and hills swept behind her, but the scenery was slightly blurry. The photographer had focussed on her, instead – and there had only been one person up there with her. Nick. She brought the screen closer, her heart thudding against her chest as she examined the shot.

What did it mean?

Only a fumble at the door handle gave her warning that Nick was returning from the bathroom. Hastily Diane scrolled back a few photos, turning off the camera and leaving it on the bed. When he appeared around the corner, she stood up smiling awkwardly. He’d showered too, she could see it in the slightly damp curl of his hair over his ear; his deep green pyjamas were also something new. She wondered if he was noting the same details about her and wasn’t sure if she hoped he was or not.

“Are you certain this is alright?” Nick asked, and from the slightly stricken expression on his face, he had been thinking it but not necessarily planning on saying it.

Diane looked at him, her heart softening immediately at the concern on his face. “Of course,” she said carefully, “but if you’d rather, I won’t be offended if you sleep on the couch.”

He stared for a long moment, and she had the oddest impression he was fighting with himself. Finally, he spoke.

“The sofa,” he corrected with a slight smile.

Diane lifted on eyebrow. “Keep arguing, and you might not have a choice, honey.”

The small joke broke some of the tension, and Diane moved to the side of the bed he clearly didn’t use.

“Would you mind if I leave a light on?” Nick asked. “I’ve become accustomed to it, I think.”

Diane wasn’t sure if that was true or if he was trying to be tactful, but either way she knew her preference. “Of course,” she said immediately. “I think I’d prefer it too.”

She slid under the blankets, acutely aware of Nick on the far side. The hall light cast strange shadows, and the sheets were cool and unfamiliar. She was pleased to have Nick’s breathing beside her and the faint smell of her usual moisturiser on her skin. Familiar sensations to temper the uncomfortable.

“I think I became more used to Gander than I realised,” Diane said quietly into the half-darkness. She wanted to turn to face Nick but wasn’t sure if that would be too much; instead she stayed lying on her back, blinking up at the ceiling as she waited for his response. Surely he wasn’t asleep yet, after only a few seconds?

“Me too,” he said. “Remember the woman who talked in her sleep?”

Diane smiled. “I wonder was she was saying?”

“No idea,” Nick said. “I don’t even know if she spoke that language to anyone.”

“And the little boy with his dinosaur,” Diane replied. “The night he couldn’t find it?”

Nick groaned, which turned into a laugh. “It took hours before his brother admitted to hiding it.”

Diane smiled. “I wonder if they’re home yet. They weren’t on our flight, were they?”

“I don’t think so,” Nick said. “It was pretty mixed up, I think.”

“We were lucky to end up in the same place,” Diane said.

Nick was silent for a moment before he replied, “Yes.”

Diane closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to relax her body so she could sleep. It was late, and she was exhausted, but there was a thread of anxiety still running through her and she didn’t know why. Frustrated, she sighed, wondering what it was she needed before the last of her nerves would ease and she could relax into sleep. She shifted restlessly, wondering if it was the strange pillow (possible) or even being in a real bed for the first time in almost a week (also possible).

It took an effort to stop herself moving, and when she did, lying on her back, Diane put her hands flat beside her, trying to find a neutral position. As she did, her hand brushed Nick’s. He must be lying the same way, she realised, and without thinking she turned her head to look at him, assess his reaction, figure out…something. She wasn’t sure of the specifics but it must have been important because a low level _don’t look-don’t look_ had been running through her since she’d sat down.

His fingers had startled when she touched them, and now her eyes met his. They’d both frozen, so their skin was still touching, and Diane realised his eyes were locked on hers. She wondered if this was him waiting for her, or if he was assessing her in the same way she was. It was hard to tell in the dim light; his eyes, normally blue, were cast in shadows. No clues there. Diane realised she had to make a decision, and this Diane, Diane of After, didn’t think too far past _Well, what do you want to do?_

She shifted her hand, sliding it under his and lacing their fingers. His face didn’t change too much until she was settled and gave him half a smile, hoping he’d understand. He returned her smile and curled his fingers around hers, and her heart flexed with him. Her eyes grew heavy, looking at him, and she finally realised this was what she needed.

“Good night,” she said quietly, her words needing to travel bare inches across from her pillow to his.

“Good night,” he replied. She was almost asleep, and his next words could have been a dream; it was possible she wouldn’t know. “I’m glad you’re here.”


	3. Chapter 3

Diane woke slowly. Her body felt heavy, pressing into the mattress even as the light pulled at her consciousness through her closed eyes. There was a body beside her, as heavy with sleep as she was, solid and comfortable and entangled with her in a deeply comforting way. She wasn’t in Gander; it was too quiet for that. And yet this was a real bed, and a real person who smelled like…

Nick.

Well, not quite like Nick; the Nick from Gander wasn’t wearing his own clothes, or using his own toiletries. She breathed in deeply, trying to figure out which threads of scent were different and which were the same. There was enough the same to be comforting, and enough different to be tantalisingly interesting.

With a contented sigh, she wiggled deeper into the warmth of the blankets, a sleepy smile stealing over her face as she felt Nick moving too, their limbs shifting until they were both comfortable. Neither spoke, but a deep hum of contentment buzzed through the solid warmth Diane found herself wrapped around. She didn’t know if it started or ended in her, but as she set herself back towards sleep, it didn’t matter at all.

+++

It could have been moments later, or hours; Diane had no idea. The only thing that mattered – and it was probably this that woke her – was the absence of Nick. His side of the bed was still warm; she stretched, checking he wasn’t still there. She was right, though; he’d gone.

Blinking, Diane rolled onto her back as her mind slowly came back to reality again. She had vague memories of waking, of her body and Nick’s moving around each other in early morning light before she slipped back into sleep. Did he remember that? While their relationship did have some levels of intimacy that were beyond other friendships she’d experienced, sharing a bed like this had turned out to bring them far closer than she’d anticipated. There was gravitating, and there was _gravitating_.

Carefully, she sat up, giving herself time to adjust. Her watch told her it was late by her standards; she couldn’t remember if she’d adjusted it after they’d come to London, so it was more or less useless. She knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep now, and it felt important that she find Nick. They had no concrete plans for the day but she’d like to see what he wanted to do.

Diane wrapped her robe around herself, relieved to see the bathroom door stood open. It saved her the awkwardness of knocking, and she was able to use it without running into Nick. She felt much better after a few moments brushing her teeth and completing her usual morning ablutions. Hesitating, Diane left her washbag on an empty shelf in the bathroom. It was a strange sight, heralding some higher level of domesticity. By now Nick would have realised she was up; Diane decided not to get dressed, but to go in search of coffee.

Tentatively, she stepped into the living room – empty – and then the kitchen. Nick sat at the small table, eyes fixed on his laptop, one hand covering his mouth as though he was thinking.

“Good morning,” Diane said, but he didn’t move. “Nick?”

“Mmm?” he made a distracted noise, but a moment later blinked and looked up as though just realising Diane was there. His expression softened from the tense worry Diane had seen when she arrived into something akin to relief. “Good morning,” he said.

“Everything okay?” Diane asked, still standing opposite the table to him. “You looked worried when I came in.”

“Ah,” Nick said, hands fluttering a little nervously, “I didn’t want to wake you, so I sent my boss an email. Explaining the situation, requesting a week’s leave.”

Diane nodded. A burst of affection fizzled in her stomach at his slightly anxious need to have things sorted so immediately.

“I received a reply,” Nick said, his eyes straying again to the screen in front of him. “She’s…not particularly empathetic. She expects me back at work tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Diane repeated. “That’s Tuesday, right?”

“Yes,” Nick said.

Diane swallowed. She braced herself to deal with it. Of course Nick had a life, a job in which he was important, in which his input was valued. He couldn’t just take a week off for no good reason. She would be fine while he was at work. There was plenty to do in London. But before she could speak, Nick continued.

“I told her how many weeks holiday I’m owed, and that I’ve just had an extremely traumatic experience, and if she wanted to discuss my heart condition with my doctor I’d send her the number.”

Diane’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she managed. Her knees were a little weak, and she took hold of a chair, sinking into it, eyes pinned on Nick’s face. He looked shocked, as though he couldn’t believe he’d done it.

“I cc’ed the CEO,” he added, the words sounding like a confession.

“Okay,” Diane said. Impulsively, she covered his hand with hers. “So, have you heard back then?”

“No,” Nick whispered. He still looked like he was in shock, Diane thought. His eyes tracked with a visible effort over to her. “I might have just quit my job.”

“You might,” Diane agreed. “Although, you could call them now, tell them you’ve reconsidered. I’m sure they’d understand.”

Nick tilted his head as though trialling the idea. “No,” he said slowly. “I mean, I could, but I’ve worked there for fifteen years. I’ve gone to every conference, every meeting they’ve asked, I’ve worked Christmas and Easter and,” he looked a little abashed, “my birthday.” His expression became more determined. “No. This is the only time I’ve asked for anything. And it’s my holidays. I should be taking them.”

He looked at her as though needing her reassurance.

“You should do what feels right,” Diane told him. His hand shifted under hers, finger curling around to grip hers. “Would you…I mean, if they did let you go, would that be…alright?”

Nick considered, his eyes resting on her face as he thought. “I think it would,” he said slowly. He frowned, looking down at their joined hands on his knee. “I can’t believe we were only there for five days,” he said quietly. “So much happened.”

“Yes,” Diane agreed.

“So much changed,” Nick said.

“Yes,” Diane said. She knew she was different; it was interesting to hear Nick saying he felt the same. It made her heart beat a little faster as she wondered what that would look like for him. Maybe there would be a time for that conversation…

“My work is still important,” Nick said. “But it’s not everything anymore.”

Diane didn’t know how to reply to that, so she just squeezed his fingers a little.

When his computer pinged, they both jumped. Nick looked at the screen, his expression changing immediately.

“The CEO replied,” he whispered, one hand gripping Diane’s while he navigated the mouse. She watched his eyes skim the words, his mouth falling open a little at the words. When he was done, his eyes slid across to Diane’s in disbelief.

“Bad news?” she asked tentatively.

“No,” Nick managed. He cleared his throat. “Good news. The CEO said…” his eyes flicked back, and he read directly from the email. “Nick, you’re a valued member of our team. We’re pleased you’ve arrived safely back in London. Take the rest of the week as holidays and we’ll see you next week.”

“Well that’s good,” Diane said, not entirely sure she understood Nick’s reaction.

“Yes,” Nick said. He cleared his throat again, and finally the shock seemed to fall from him. “Yes, it is.” He squeezed her hand, a genuine smile finally breaking over his face. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Diane protested, a smile blooming in response to his. For a long moment they sat together, hands joined on his knee in the warm kitchen, safe in the knowledge they had the rest of the week together. Nick almost said something, but in the end he closed his mouth, smiled again and offered her coffee.

“Yes please,” she said, watching him move around the small kitchen. “I should probably find a travel agent today. See when I can organise a flight direct to Dallas.”

“Yes,” Nick replied, his focus on the coffee maker. “There’s one on the high street. And a Tesco, if you’d still like to cook this evening.”

“Sounds good,” Diane replied. She accepted the coffee, a small thrill shooting through her when she sipped it and found it perfectly to her taste. Nick paid attention to such small details. “What time is it? I don’t know if I changed my watch since we arrived in London.”

“Half nine,” Nick replied. “We both slept late this morning.”

Diane hummed in response, wondering if Nick remembered their early morning snuggles. Well she certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Surely it would be easier if they didn’t mention those moments. Any conversation about it would lead to conversations about…other things. Potentially awkward. Potentially devastating, and she wasn’t prepared to deal with that. Not yet.

“Well, I should get dressed,” Diane told him. She took her coffee into the bedroom, closing the door and willing her heart to stop pounding for long enough to get through this day.

+++

By the time they arrived home that afternoon, Diane was exhausted. She’d spent what felt like an age in the travel agent, trying to explain her situation and that she wanted a direct flight to Dallas from London. She knew it was possible; she’d flown Dallas to London at the beginning of her holiday, but the agent simply refused to believe it was possible.

“You’ll have to fly to New York or Boston,” she kept saying, “and your voucher only covers one flight. You’ll have to pay the difference for the connecting flight.”

Diane was almost in tears by the time she’d finally spoken to a supervisor who rolled his eyes at the explanation. For a moment, Diane thought she was going to have to pick up her documents and leave, but he was rolling his eyes at the travel agent.

“Go and sit out the back,” he told her, and she huffed off. “I’m sorry,” he said to Diane, fingers flying over the keyboard in front of her. “It’s been pretty stressful here what with everything that’s happened.” He leaned in. “Between you and me I don’t think she’s cut out for customer service.”

“Me either,” Diane murmured, finally taking her documents from the helpful agent.

“So you’re booked on American Airlines next Monday,” he told her, “flight 831 from Heathrow direct to Dallas, Texas. That flight is entirely covered by your voucher, so you’re good to go. Make sure you check the new restrictions on luggage and carry on items before you travel.” He handed her a flyer. “Best to look the day before, things keep changing at the moment.”

“Thank you,” Diane said.

Nick had waited outside, and her smile must not have been quite convincing enough, because he raised a questioning eyebrow. “Not as smooth as it could have been,” she said.

He didn’t say anything, but offered her a hug, something she gladly accepted, breathing him in right there in the high street. It was becoming familiar, and she wondered how soon she’d forget it when she left next week. No. Don’t think about that, she told herself. Enjoy the time you have. But the countdown had begun, and she couldn’t help thinking about it.

“Tesco?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. She tucked her travel documents in her handbag and they held hands as they walked. It was automatic now, this small intimacy, and she was still surprised that it happened so naturally. “Do you know what you’d like to make?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “I was hoping you might have a suggestion.”

Diane thought as they passed the post office and what looked like a high end jeweller. The sparkles caught her eye for a moment. “Why don’t we do something simple tonight?”

“Sure,” Nick replied.

They wandered through the supermarket and settled on salmon fillets, green beans and new potatoes. Diane was happy enough to drive the shopping cart as Nick collected enough staples to refill his cupboards after his absence. The quiet domesticity was comforting after so long in the limbo of shelters and mass produced meals. Her brain was happy to turn off after the stress in the travel agent, and she suspected there was some jet lag adding to her tiredness.

“Should we start cooking now?” Nick asked as they piled shopping bags on the kitchen table and bench. “I have no idea how long it will take.”

“Not quite,” Diane replied. She yawned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I think I need a nap.”

“Of course,” Nick replied. “I’ll put this away. I’ll be as quiet as I can.”

Diane smiled fondly at him. She had to restrain herself from reaching up to kiss him – it just felt right, but she knew it would lead to the complications she’d been hoping to avoid. Instead she took herself into the living room. It felt odd to lie down on the bed; instead she slipped off her shoes and curled up on the couch. She was out in minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

The light was muted when she awoke. Something had woken her – something other than the change in light – and she took a second to figure out what, exactly. There was quiet music playing, something slow and background, but that wasn’t it. Something brushed against her temple again, and she realised that was it. Someone was brushing the hair off her face. Her heart added some extra beats at the realisation.

“Hello,” Nick said warmly when she opened her eyes. He was sitting on the edge of the couch – _sofa_ – and she couldn’t think of a better word to describe his expression than _fond._

“Hi,” she said.

“I was worried you wouldn’t sleep tonight,” he admitted. “You’ve been asleep for several hours.”

“I have?” Diane asked, struggling to sit up. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Nick said. “Jet lag is hard enough without adding to the difficulty getting to sleep.”

“You’re right,” Diane said. He was sitting close, and his eyes had a different light in them, as though he was trying for courage in something he couldn’t quite grasp yet. Diane didn’t need to glance at his mouth to know that if she leaned over a little, his kind smile would be within reach if she…

No.

“So, should we start on dinner, then?” she asked with a brightness that far exceeded what she felt. Nick’s eyes were on her and she knew she was transparently false, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

They cooked successfully enough, and although it was delicious, Nick declared it would take him far too long to make on his own. Diane rolled her eyes.

“No it won’t,” she said. “And you can cook two meals worth, it’s easy enough.”

“I suppose,” he replied.

The atmosphere had changed since she’d woken, since that moment she’d more or less bolted from their conversation. There had been more gaps in their conversation, more long silences as neither met the others’ eye. Even so, Diane still felt Nick’s eyes on hers, and she knew she was sneaking glances at him, too. She wondered how long they could keep their determined ignorance of this up. They were adults, living in a small house. Sharing a bed, for goodness sake, hugging and holding hands and as comfortable in each other’s space as two people who were not in a romantic relationship could be.

And yet neither had talked about it, or made an effort to extend their intimacy in a romantic direction.

When dinner was done, dishes clean and away, Diane wondered what they would do. Her nap meant she wasn’t ready for bed. In Gander there had been things to do, walks to take, activities organised. Here, it was the two of them in his small flat. They had to make their own fun.

Just the idea made Diane wince.

“I don’t spend a lot of time here recreationally,” Nick admitted, when they’d retired to his couch with cups of tea, all other reasonable procrastinations exhausted. “I usually just flick on the telly for background noise before I turn in.”

Diane nodded. “I do the same,” she admitted. “It can be quiet with just one person at home.”

“Yes,” Nick agreed.

They lapsed into silence again.

“What time is it in Dallas?” Nick asked suddenly.

“I don’t know,” Diane replied. “Why?”

“I thought…I mean, you might want to speak to David again,” Nick said. “I think London is ahead of Dallas, so it would be earlier there. You’re welcome to use the phone whenever you like.”

Diane’s heart skipped. She’d thought of David when they arrived, but she knew he was safe, and their brief phone call was enough for the moment. And most of her attention was taken up with Nick.

“Really?” she said. “That would be…” she swallowed. “Very kind.”

“I’ll take my tea into the bedroom,” he said, matching his actions to his words. The door closed behind him, and in a moment Diane heard music drifting out. Considerate as always, she thought, picking up the receiver.

“David?” she asked when he answered.

“Mom!” he said. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t really talk yesterday, things are crazy here.”

“I know, it’s fine,” she said. “I just wanted you to know where I was.”

“So London?” David said. “How did that happen?”

She gave him a brief explanation of how she’d arrived in Paris, then a fairly glossed over version of how she and Nick had ended up in London.

“Nick?” David repeated. “Is that the same English guy you told me about when you were in Canada?”

“Yes,” Diane said, feeling her face heat. “He’s been very kind.”

“Yuh-huh,” David said, a deeply sceptical amusement in his voice. “And how are you making that up to him?”

“David!” Diane admonished her son. “That is a crude suggestion, young man!”

“Well, come on Mom,” he said. He sighed. “I want you to be happy, and you should hear yourself talk about this guy.”

“He lives in England,” she hissed, eyes flicking to the bedroom door. If Nick overheard any part of this she would be mortified.

“So?” David said. “London’s not that far from Dallas, Mom. And that’s assuming neither of you is prepared to move. Does he have a lot of family?”

“No,” she admitted.

“And neither do you,” David pointed out. “Face it Mom, living in different countries isn’t the barrier it might have been fifty years ago.” His voice softened. “Have you even talked to him about this?”

“No!” Diane answered him. She couldn’t believe her son was having this conversation with her.

David was quiet for a second. “Be straight with me Mom. Have you even kissed him?”

“David!” Diane said again, her face aflame with embarrassment. “That is none of your business!”

“Well I just want the relevant facts,” David told her. “How else can I give you advice?”

“Why are you even trying to give me advice?” Diane asked him, exasperated. “I called to see how you are.”

“Fine,” David said. “I’m not the one who got stuck on a plane for half a day, then had a holiday in Newfoundland with a handsome English guy and is now in London living in the handsome guy’s flat!”

“I am not living with him,” Diane hissed. “David, that’s not…” she sighed. “It’s not like that.”

“It should be,” he shot back. “There is no reason why not, Mom. Unless he has some terrible personal habit you haven’t told me about yet.”

Despite herself, Diane giggled. “No,” she found herself saying, “He’s pretty much perfect.”

“Then get off the phone, Mom,” David said, his voice full of love and exasperation in equal measures. “Go and be happy. You don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“Alright, fine,” Diane grumbled. “Take care of yourself. My flight home lands next Monday. I’ll speak to you over the weekend.”

“Okay, Mom,” David said. “I love you. See you when you get home.”

“I love you too,” Diane told him, waiting for him to hang up the phone first. She dropped the receiver into the cradle, staring into middle distance for a dozen long slow breaths. David had never been one to hesitate; he was exactly like his father and unlike his mother in that respect.

Although, Diane thought, she was comparing Diane from Before with David. Diane from After was less critical of ideas, of actions that might have an unknown outcome. She thought about what she wanted and usually went for it.

Sipping at her tea, Diane thought about it. She wanted to brush her teeth. She wanted to find Nick and hug him. Her thought stuttered at that point, and she decided not to plan too far in the future. Right now, she would do what she wanted.

Tea mostly finished, the dregs in sink. Into the bathroom, teeth clean, face clean, pyjamas; she stared at the bedroom door, fingers tapping on the edge of the count for ten (fifteen, twenty), before lightly knocking and turning the handle.

Nick was sitting up in bed, head drooping, light snoring sounding through the space over the music. Diane smiled, drinking in the sight of him. She didn’t know what he’d done while she’d napped, but whatever it was, he was clearly exhausted. The jet lag was affecting both of them.

Quietly, Diane turned off the radio and the lights, leaving the bathroom light on as they had the previous night. Nick had changed into a soft t-shirt, his legs tucked under the blankets, arms crossed where he must have decided to close his eyes for just a moment. Diane’s heart swelled, and she sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, just watching him sleep.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” she said quietly, paraphrasing what she thought he’d said last night. It was easier, in this quiet, Nick’s cautious blue eyes closed instead of resting gently on her, encouraging her to speak her mind. She wanted to say more, but the words were easier to think than say, and her courage failed her again. Instead, she carefully lifted Nick’s glasses from his nose, sitting them on his bedside table. She walked to her side of the bed and sat down, wondering how best to wake Nick enough to get him to lie down properly.

What’s good for the goose, she thought, and her fingertips found his temple, stroking a careful line down the side of his face, the soft skin warm under her fingers.

Nick started, his eyes opening wide and settling right on her face.

Diane froze, looking at him. “You fell asleep,” she said quietly. “It’s late.”

He nodded, the initial moment of wakefulness easing off. He started rearranging himself, and Diane did too, this time turning to face him in the dim light.

“How’s David?” his voice was almost asleep.

“Fine,” Diane replied. Nick’s eyes were closed, and she wondered how much longer he’d have before he drifted into sleep. Diane from After took over, and she found her hands tangled with his on the bed between them. Diane from Before – assuming she’d found the courage to do this – would have watched him with wide eyes, wondering if she’d ruined something, but this Diane didn’t worry about it. She allowed her own eyes to drift closed, content in the knowledge that even if her courage failed her in the future, she’d have this moment locked in her heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Diane woke to something warm and comfortable easing away from her. She protested for a moment before realising it was Nick, shifting carefully out from under her arm. With a sigh, she let him go. The bed was warm, but it wasn’t the same. Idly, she wondered what time it was. There was no bright light pressing through her eyelids, and she was fairly sure Nick had left a light on, anyway. She blinked, looking around; her initial suggestion had been right. Whatever time it was, it was early; too early for morning light to define the shape of the blinds yet.

The quiet stretched on, and after a few moments Diane wondered if Nick was coming back. Had he just got up for the bathroom, or was there something else? A few more moments, and she wanted to find him. Robe on, fingers combed through her hair, and she stepped out into the living room.

Nick was sitting on the couch, cradling a mug. Steam rolled gently up and around the shape of his jaw; it was fascinating, and for a moment Diane watched it curl around his face until he looked up to see her there.

“Did I wake you?” Nick asked.

“No,” Diane lied, then when he looked at her steadily, “yes.”

“Kettle’s hot if you want a cuppa,” Nick said.

Diane didn’t reply, but stepped into the kitchen, the quiet ritual of making tea somehow exaggerated in the silence of this early morning. When she returned, she sat on the other end of the couch, tucking her feet up under her and cupping her own mug. The warmth around her hands was almost too much, but it helped ground her.

“It is late or early?” Diane wondered.

“Depends if you go back to bed,” Nick replied.

Diane smiled. “Remember that night in Gander?”

“Which one?” Nick asked.

“With the sandwiches,” Diane said. “That woman had dozens and dozens, remember?”

Nick’s face broke into a smile. “I didn’t think they’d all get eaten. I couldn’t believe how many people were awake in the middle of the night.”

“Jet lag from all over,” Diane agreed. She paused, and the energy lowered again. She watched Nick’s face, the amusement at the shared memory fading from his expression, and he was pensive once more. “Is there…what woke you?” It felt like she was walking the line between asking and prying, but it was late, and the light was dim and something about him was almost sad. Diane’s heart twisted as she waited for Nick to reply.

“Jetlag,” Nick said slowly, and Diane felt disappointment shoot through her until he went on, “and I’m not used to waking up with someone.”

“Right,” Diane replied. She had no idea how to interpret that. Was he annoyed that she was there? Had she been too much? Should she offer to sleep on the couch now? Shifting a little, she sipped at her tea. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I think I just…in my sleep. Not on purpose.” Her explanation was awkward and stilted, but she hoped Nick understood what she was saying.

“I know,” he replied. He flashed a smile at her. “Please don’t apologise. It’s not…unpleasant.” He winced, adding hastily, “I’m just not used to it. I needed to think.”

Diane nodded. That was something familiar, Nick stopping to think. She didn’t speak again, not sure if this conversation was over or not. Curiosity, threaded with need, pulsed quietly through her. What was he thinking about? He said it wasn’t unpleasant – but what did that mean to him? They had almost an entire week still, and it would be excruciating if things were so awkward the whole time.

The silence stretched for a long time, and Diane sank into it, feeling the quiet wrap around her. It had been a long time since she’d sat in such quiet, and she was only beginning to be comfortable again. ‘Quiet’ in Gander still meant a lot of people. Even at night, the quiet wasn’t so still or complete. During the day, she and Nick would often walk together without speaking, the long stretches comfortable as their feet crunched on gravel or concrete, but there were animals and cars and of course other people. Nothing like this.

“Thank you,” Nick said suddenly enough to make Diane start.

“For what?” she asked.

He considered his answer, then said, “Sitting here. For the quiet, I think.”

Diane’s eyebrows rose. “You’re welcome,” she said. There was a beat before she added, “I’m usually far more chatty. A bit of a nervous habit, I think.” She hesitated a second, but when Nick’s eyes rose to meet hers she’d already drawn breath so the words tumbled out in a panicky pile. “But it’s easy to sit quietly with you.”

The words hung between them, and Diane wondered how much meaning Nick was taking from them. How much meaning she’d infused them with in the first place.

“Not everyone is so considerate,” Nick murmured. “I’m not usually comfortable with people.”

Diane smiled even as her heart pounded. “I know,” she said. “But you made an effort to be kind on the plane. And on the bus.”

Nick shifted uncomfortably. “I must tell you,” he blurted, “it wasn’t a coincidence that we were on the same bus. I might have asked the flight attendant which bus…you were on.”

“Really?” Diane whispered.

Nick shrugged, his expression apprehensive.

“I was glad to see you,” she said. “A familiar face in all that mess. And you’d been kind.”

“I’d been awkward,” he said.

“Yes,” Diane agreed, and impulsively she moved closer, swinging one leg off the edge of the couch. “But kind too.” She smiled when he looked at her disbelievingly. “They’re not mutually exclusive, you know.”

Nick didn’t say anything, and Diane wondered what was running through his mind. Slowly, he placed his mug on the floor, reaching out to take hers carefully and place it beside his. Diane watched, unsure if it was his pace or her perception that was making time appear to slow down. Certainly her heart was racing, and she was now very aware of how fast she was breathing, too. Her eyes were on Nick’s hands, and as she watched he reached over, taking one of her hands in his. The tangle of fingers was familiar, but it sent a shot of awareness through her in an entirely new way. This didn’t feel like it was about the borderline platonic comfort they’d been offering each other.

_Something’s changed._

“Dallas is a long way away,” Nick said, very quietly.

“Yes,” Diane managed through her heart in her throat. Nervously, she added, “David didn’t understand why I was in London.”

“He didn’t?” Nick asked.

“I couldn’t quite explain,” Diane said quietly. Right now, she struggled for the words. It was far more important to have Nick understand than David. “I…I would have missed you either way,” she said, “whether I was in Dallas or Paris. If you were in London. And it seemed a waste, if I was going to be over here for a week, and not seeing you…” she trailed off, frustrated with her poor explanation. “I like having you close,” she said. “Even though I know it can’t be forever.” The last sentence almost made her well up, but she fought it down.

“But,” Nick started. She waited for him to continue, but no words came, and with a deep breath, she looked up, meeting his eyes. The expression in them was the same as the previous evening, where she’d thought he was looking for courage to do something. When she’d thought about kissing him, but her own courage had failed her. It had felt too far from where they were, too much of a gap to bridge in one go.

But now they’d taken a step, with their awkward honesty in the darkness, and Diane’s heart kicked up another gear as she saw it in Nick’s eyes. The things he’d been hiding, that resonated in her; the longing, the fear, and now… tentative anticipation. Carefully, the hope coming forth that she wasn’t misreading this, Diane raised one hand to Nick’s face. It settled there, feather light and trembling for a long, drawn out breath; she knew she wasn’t breathing, and it wasn’t until he exhaled, shaky and deep, that she realised he hadn’t been, either.

His skin was warm and rough beneath her palm; she daren’t move in case the spell was broken. Nick had frozen too, and Diane found herself begging him to do something, anything. Show her he was thinking along the same lines as she. That it wasn’t just…

“Oh!”

The sound popped from her mouth as his hand came over hers, gently pulling back so he could turn his head into it. His mouth pressed against her palm, breath washing hot over her thumb as he exhaled. His eyes were on hers so when she shivered, she knew he saw it, and perhaps that was the moment that gave him the last kick he needed.

It was definitely her perception changing, Diane knew, because time moved both fast and slow. Nick surged forward, his free hand sliding around the back of her neck as he kissed her. Diane’s eyes closed, and she felt the shape of his shoulder under her hand, and his mouth moving on hers, stroking and trembling at once. It was glorious, the relief flooded her as they finally gave themselves licence to do this, to stop holding back. Dimly she was aware of herself tipping sideways, most of her focus on Nick, the swirl of new sensations now pulsing through her. It was too much to try and think at the same time, so Diane simply stopped, allowing herself to float away with Nick instead.

Some time later – Diane wouldn’t bet on if minutes or hours was the right unit of measurement – they lay beside each other on the couch. The cushions had ended up on the floor, allowing them just enough space to lie side by side along its length. She hadn’t looked but she was fairly sure Nick was too tall for this; her own knees were slightly bent and she could still feel the armrest brushing her toes.

“You would never have been able to sleep on this couch,” she murmured.

He smiled. “I would have,” he said. “I could hardly have insisted you did.”

“Such a gentleman,” Diane replied, punctuating her comment with a bold kiss.

“It’s because I’m English,” Nick said. “Comes with the territory.”

“Are you?” Diane said with mock surprise. “I hadn’t really noticed.”

“Well my _sofa_ and I,” he said, emphasising the different word, “would have coped fine if you’d rather we’d spend the night together.”

“Did you really think I might want that?” Diane asked him. It was wonderful to be able to ask the questions she’d had swirling around her head for what felt like an age, now.

“I didn’t want to presume,” Nick said. “English, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” Diane replied, and she kissed him again for a long time. It was light and soft and breathtakingly intimate and she never wanted it to end. “You can’t possibly be comfortable here,” she said. As he protested she sat up, Nick following until he was sitting up, legs stretched along the couch. Sofa, she thought. Or whatever.

“Thank you,” Nick said, and when he leaned in to kiss her a thrill ran through her. She wondered if the same happened to him when it was her leaning in? Curious, she leaned back, kissing him slowly, keeping her eyes open to watch his reaction. Eyes closed, breath hitching, fist tightening as it rested on his leg.

Looks like it, Diane thought in astonishment. Perhaps they really were in the same place here. Sighing, she closed her eyes again, registering for the first time in a while how late it was, and how much sleep she really had missed out on recently. She’d be happy to sleep again, but they couldn’t sleep here; Nick was definitely not comfortable.

Before she could decide how to phrase the potentially awkward suggestion, Nick spoke. “It’s late, and I don’t know about you but I think I’ll be able to sleep again.” He smiled, and his kiss was soft as he murmured, “I won’t mind waking up with you this time.”

“Is that what woke you?” Diane asked. She wondered if his answer this time would be different.

“I woke up exactly as I wanted to,” he said, the honesty in his words leaving her breathless. “But I didn’t know if you wanted that, so it was easier to get up instead.”

“Ah,” Diane said, “that English chivalry again.”

“Perhaps,” Nick replied. He wound their hands together. “More sleep?”

“More sleep,” Diane agreed. It was still strange, climbing into bed together, but this time she didn’t have to stop herself rolling towards him, and when she drifted off to sleep, it was with the beat of his heart under her ear.


	6. Chapter 6

Waking, Diane couldn’t remember why she was smiling. A particularly good dream? As she was trying to remember, something behind her moved, stretched, groaned.

Nick.

Memory flooded back, and she smiled again, turning a little into his body, wrapping his arm further around his waist. Nick. It sounded like he was waking too; the slow sleepy movements as they stretched and blinked were warm and easy. Having him hold her so close was comforting. She wondered if he always slept like this – had he been holding back before last night?

“Good morning,” Nick’s voice was low in her ear, and she shivered and smiled.

He pressed a kiss into her shoulder, and when she lifted one hand to his face, the single kiss turned into a series across her shoulder and up her neck, trailing fire until she gasped, turning to kiss him properly. They moved together, she rolling over in his arms, he easing toward her until his torso pressed her into the mattress with a grounding weight. He was becoming familiar, she was thrilled to realise; the way he kissed, the feel of his skin under her fingers.

Their kisses were slow and lazy, befitting a morning such as this. Diane’s limbs were still heavy with sleep, and Nick’s stubble scratched a little across her lips. So many sensations, she thought hazily as Nick’s mouth explored hers. So many things she still didn’t know about him, about this part of him – but she was learning. Their exploration was unhurried and she felt cherished; she hoped her gentle touches and sighs showed Nick the same. They settled into a slow rhythm of hands and mouths. Neither tried to change or accelerate anything; they were building an intimate bubble together, and Diane’s mind swirled in slow, lazy eddies. Eventually the intensity tailed off, and gentle fingers brushed her face.

Nick eased back, his eyes soft on hers. “Good morning,” he repeated, watching her with wonder.

“Good morning,” she replied, meeting his smile with one of her own. She could feel the heat and prickle around her mouth, and she found herself brushing the whiskers with one finger. Nick held still, but she was fascinated to see his eyes widen at her touch. “Bristly,” she explained, still smiling.

“I’ll shave this morning,” he assured her, his already pink skin deepening as he blushed.

“I don’t mind,” Diane murmured, reaching up to kiss him again. He responded immediately, and she could feel the restraint in his careful kiss. It was softer than she imagined, and she marvelled again at how considerate and gentle he really was. The kiss lingered and she revelled in the familiarity of it. What a glorious way to start the day, and the rest of her life, she thought hazily. Good grief, was she really thinking that already?

“Coffee?” Nick asked, almost pressing the word to her mouth with his kiss.

“Mmm,” Diane replied. “Yes please.”

They rolled out of bed and into robes. Nick headed into the bathroom first, then out to make coffee while Diane took her turn. She was smiling foolishly into the mirror as she washed her hands and face. It was incredible to believe the slight redness around her mouth was from kissing Nick. She couldn’t temper the smile, and knew it was still there as she walked into the kitchen.

“So what would you like to do today?” Nick asked.

Diane shrugged, turning her face up, accepting the kiss Nick offered with her coffee. She found herself humming with pleasure at the small intimacy. “I don’t mind,” she murmured. Where she would have censored herself, she now added, “As long as it’s with you.”

Nick’s eyes widened with surprise, and his face suffused with pleasure. A thrill ran through Diane when he leaned down to kiss her again, fingers curling around her shoulder as his kiss lingered. Diane was still holding her coffee, and she felt her fingers press into the hot china in response. Her breath hitched and she had to take a deep breath when they parted.

“Well in that case,” Nick replied, “perhaps we should start by getting ready to go out somewhere.”

“What, this isn’t acceptable?” Diane asked.

“Probably not,” Nick said, sitting opposite her. “We could start with breakfast, if you’re hungry.”

“Sounds good,” Diane said. This was a good day already, she thought, and they hadn’t even left the kitchen yet.

The rest of the day passed in a blur – a romantic walk somewhere, shared meals and several quiet hours spent in Nick’s flat when the rain set in. Their first night awkwardness had vanished, and instead the afternoon passed as they wrapped around each other on the sofa. Conversation flowed quietly about everything under the sun, petering out when one turned to kiss the other and words seemed no longer necessary.

Diane found herself deeply content in Nick’s company, and in fact there were few moments in which they weren’t within arms’ reach. He was thoughtful and considerate, as he had always been, but now Diane saw the affectionate side of his nature begin to blossom. He reached for her hand when they were walking, pulled his chair closer as they ate, placed one hand on the small of her back as they passed through doorways. Each and every point of contact sent awareness through her as it marked his attention to her.

Their evening was consistent with the rest of the day; a meal shared, takeaway in Nick’s small kitchen, sharing flavours and private smiles. Tea in large mugs, carried into the living room, and unlike that first awkward evening, they folded into each other, limbs entwining and quiet sighs as their bodies pressed together. It was as though their meal was just filling time until they could come back together, kissing and whispering sweet nothings until their tea cooled beyond drinking temperature. When they noticed and could convince each other to rise, Nick kissed her softly.

“You use the bathroom first,” he said. “I’ll see to this.” He picked up the mugs and headed into the kitchen, presumably to tip the cold liquid down the sink.

Diane headed into the bedroom, reaching for her pyjamas, then hesitating. She’d been far too warm last night. She hadn’t been expecting to be sharing the bed with another body, after all. Being as organised as she was, though, she _had_ packed a lighter sleeping shirt in case the weather was warmer than expected in Paris. For a moment she fingered the light fabric, a flutter running through her at the idea of making the change. She had no idea where Nick stood on their increasing intimacy, but the idea of climbing into bed with him this evening was exciting in a way she hadn’t felt for a long time. Maybe…With a surge of determination, Diane from After came to the fore.

_If you want to wear the shirt, wear the shirt._

Decision made and heart pounding, Diane picked up her sleeping shirt and clean underwear and stepped into the bathroom. It was ridiculous, she scolded herself, that her fingers were shaking as she changed and prepared for bed. She was hardly a blushing bride, and yet nervous excitement ran through her veins at the possibility of she and Nick extending their intimacy tonight.

“Stop it,” she told herself quietly in the mirror. “You are a grown woman.”

With a nod to herself, Diane picked up her clothes and opened the bedroom door, leaning to catch an errant sock before it hit the floor. She was still securing the pile, so she was halfway to her suitcase before she noticed Nick standing near the end of the bed, frozen, his eyes on her.

He’d traded his trousers for pyjamas already, but his fingers were halfway through unbuttoning his shirt.

Diane froze too, her eyes drawn to the flash of chest before rising to meet his eyes. She felt herself blush fast and hot as she said, “Oh, Nick, I’m sorry, I didn’t even…”

Nick spoke at the same time, and she saw something odd in his eyes before he ducked his head. “No, no, I didn’t think, I’ll just…”

Diane frowned, and before he could take more than a step towards the bathroom, she dropped her clothes and reached out a hand. She was too far away to touch him, but he stopped anyway, not meeting her eyes. “Hey,” she said quietly, thinking fast, watching his body language. He’d gone right back to the shy man she’d first met on the plane, looking as though he was apologising for his presence, wincing before anyone could even speak to him.

“Hey,” she said again, keeping her voice quiet. “Are you okay?”

His face was flushed, she saw, and he closed his eyes and swallowed before opening them and nodding uncertainly. Diane tried for a smile, ducking her head closer to his field of vision. “You sure?” It faded when he didn’t smile back, and she said tentatively, “It’s just me.”

Nick nodded, and she could see him wrestling with something. He’d done it before, when they were still getting to know each other, as though weighing up the pros and cons of being honest. “I should change in the bathroom,” he said awkwardly. She had the oddest impression he was considering her comfort rather than his own.

“If you want,” Diane replied carefully. “I don’t mind.” She tried for another smile, trying to lighten a mood she wasn’t quite sure she understood. “I won’t look, if that’s…” she trailed off as he winced.

“Nick?”

Diane felt like she was walking on eggshells. Something was obviously bothering him, and only now did she begin to have an understanding – but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Her heart ached for the discomfort he was obviously experiencing. She hazarded a guess it was some combination of embarrassment and shame and something else, but she didn’t know.

“I,” he said, then cleared his throat. “It has been a long time since I’ve…undressed…in front of anyone.” He closed his eyes again before blurting, “I’m not considered attractive, generally speaking.”

Diane blinked at him in surprise. “Says who?” she said, more indignantly than she’d intended.

He looked up in surprise. “An…a previous partner,” he said.

Diane thought he might not have realised he was looking at her, given how surprised he appeared, so she asked, “And they actually said that to you?”

He nodded.

She pressed her lips together, holding in the names she wanted to call this cruel person, wondering if they know how long their words persisted in his mind. Instead she thought hard, narrowing her eyes at Nick. Her own uncertainties would have to take a back burner, she could see. It would be uncomfortable for her, but vital for Nick – and she could see he needed her to lead them through this conversation.

“And did this person speak for everyone in the world?” Diane asked.

Nick frowned, not seeing where she was going.

“Well?” Diane asked, then pushed on without waiting for an answer. “Because I’m telling you, they did not speak for me.” Her tone was determined but not argumentative. She looked at Nick, letting all her affection pour out. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss you in Gander?”

“You did?” Nick whispered.

She nodded. They were getting somewhere here, so she’d have to put it all out there. Her blush rose again as she admitted, “At that lookout, the Dover Fault, I barely looked at the scenery. I was watching you. And on the bus to the plane the second time, at the airport in Paris…”

Nick was watching her, hanging on every word. She noticed his fingers had loosened in his shirt where he’d been holding the unfastened edges together. She hoped her honesty was getting through to him, maybe even starting to erode what seemed to be a rock solid belief about himself.

“And,” Diane added, daring to take a step forward, “Can I please remind you how we’ve spent the last twenty hours?”

Finally, she thought; she was rewarded with a smile, as embarrassed as it was. Another step, and she could almost reach out to him. “Do you really think I would have spent an entire day kissing you if I didn’t find you attractive?”

Nick’s eyes were still holding hers. Diane stopped speaking, leaving silence between them while he processed her arguments. Like the previous evening, the quiet settled around them, and this time her heart was thumping loud enough in her ears to mark the time as it passed. Everything was still, and Diane realised belatedly she was actually a little cold. She hadn’t anticipated standing for so long in the middle of the room like this. She suppressed a shiver. This was no time to succumb to something like that. She had to wait for Nick, to give him space to come to whatever decision he wanted to make.

“You said you wanted to…kiss me. In Gander,” Nick said.

Diane started, then nodded, her heart in her throat. She didn’t know where Nick was going but she would let him lead the conversation wherever he needed it to go.

“Why didn’t you?” Nick asked.

Diane relaxed a little. That question, she could answer. “Because even then I knew I liked you more than a…vacation romance,” she said honestly. It felt good to say it aloud. Keep it simple and honest, she coached herself. “And when we left, you would go home to England, and I would go home to Dallas,” she shrugged, and emotion rose in her as she added more huskily than she’d planned, “and I might never see you again.”

Nick’s eyes softened as she swallowed back the tears, but he remained silent. “And now?” he said finally.

“And now,” Diane echoed him, smiling, “I have no idea what’s going to happen. But we have the rest of this week, and I know I will call you, and I will visit when I can…and we’ll see where that takes us.” It was so much simpler, she marvelled, to just say the truth. No projections of what might happen, no apologies, just truth. It felt clean.

With a deep breath, she asked, “How does that sound to you?”

Nick’s eyes searched hers, and he nodded.

“Well,” Diane said, carefully, not wanting to make assumptions, “I’m going to get into bed. If you want to join me, that would be lovely.” She smiled and turned, but Nick reached one arm out, closing a hand gently around her wrist. She stopped and met his eyes, seeing the apprehension mingle with determination there. Wordlessly, he dropped her hand and extended his wrist.

She looked down to see his cuff button facing up. Glancing up to see she had the right idea, Diane slipped her fingers around the fabric, flicking the button loose. She must have had, because he raised the other, watching as she did the same. Impulsively, she caught his hand, keeping it close. Her forefingers eased under the flaps of the cuff, folding them back, exposing the pale skin of his wrists without touching. She could hear his breathing stutter.

Diane shifted her hands, thumbs holding the cuff open, fingers cradling the back of his wrist as she lowered her mouth. Her eyes closed as she kissed his inner wrist, and through her own thundering pulse she couldn’t tell if he made a sound or not. The shudder was real, though, and his fingers curled in when her tongue traced a short path along smooth skin.

She lingered, feeling arousal begin to sing in her veins before lifting her head. She knew her breathing was different, could feel her pulse faster and harder than usual, and from the look on Nick’s face as he drank in her expression, it was written all over her face, too. Good. She wanted him to see. Actually, better than that…

Without a word, she lifted his hand to her neck, pressing his fingers into her artery. “See?” she said, hearing her voice as though from a stranger. “That’s from one kiss.”

Nick nodded and swallowed, and Diane realised how heavy the atmosphere was between them. What had been a low pull for days had now exploded into something all encompassing, and from the look in Nick’s eyes, he could see and feel the effect he was having on her too. There was still a shadow of disbelief, but as she reached for the rest of the buttons on his shirt he didn’t stop her fingers, his hand on her skin pressing flat, sliding to map the shape of her neck, her shoulder…the skim of fingers below the neckline of her shirt made it hard to concentrate, and though she wasn’t naturally talkative at times like this, Diane knew Nick needed the encouragement.

“You may lose a few buttons,” she said, “it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on my skin.” The words were awkward in her mouth, and she felt her face heat. Nick’s hand stilled, and when it began to retreat Diane slapped her hand over the top, holding it there, meeting his eyes. “That wasn’t a complaint,” she said, berating herself for her choice of words. “I just…wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” he replied cautiously.

Diane smiled again, and quickly flicked out the rest of the buttons without looking. “Managed to save the buttons,” she told him. He nodded, eyes clouding again a little, and Diane didn’t move.

“I want to be sure you’re okay,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure what you want.” She wasn’t touching him, and her eyes were on his, but she was incredibly aware of how close he was.

Nick nodded, the clouds resolving into uncertainty again.

“Show me,” she said quietly.

Hesitantly he ducked his head, kissing her. It was tentative at first, but she responded with a gasp as he took her hand and guided it to his waist, beneath the fabric now sitting open over his torso. Diane’s world coalesced, and it was her and Nick, skin and mouths and restless breathing, and finally Nick must have believed her because he walked them over to the bed and they tipped sideways, landing in a pile of limbs.

“Sorry,” Nick said, “closer than I-oof!”

Diane didn’t let him finish, kissing him instead. They’d talked enough, and she could feel her sleeping shirt rucking up her legs as they rolled over, her hands in his hair, letting go of the restraint they’d both felt until this point. When Nick’s hand slid around her back and lower, finding the skin of her bare legs, Diane gasped, running her own hands under his shirt again, both of them now well aware of the effect they had on the other.

After that, she lost track.

Later, she remembered flashes of it, mainly skin and hands and mouths, the look on Nick’s face as one shaking hand brushed hair out of her face so he could kiss her, the way his back arched when she moved a certain way. Their breath had been harsh at the end, uneven and desperate, but now it had settled into the warm nest of blankets over them both, skin pressed close. Nick’s fingers drew tiny patterns across her shoulder, and Diane couldn’t keep her hand from pressing over his heart, thinking how amazing it was that so many things had gone right for them to find each other.

“I could stay here forever,” Diane said drowsily.

“Me too,” Nick agreed. He took a breath as though he was going to say something else, but let it out again. A few seconds later he breathed in again, and this time he said, “You really are a remarkable person, Diane.”

She curled into him as warmth rushed through her. “Thank you,” she said. Tilting her head to find his, she kissed him, slow and unhurried. “So are you,” she murmured. “I am so lucky we met.”

“We both are,” Nick said.

Diane hummed in agreement. She felt herself slipping away into contented, blissful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of their week passed in a blur. The tentative plans to see and do things were abandoned in favour of hours spent in bed or on the sofa. They did venture out for food and other essentials, but as their last full day together started drawing to a close, Diane realised they’d barely left the apartment since Wednesday.

“Let’s go for a walk tonight,” she said. They were in bed, either again or still, depending on your perspective; neither had dressed today and only food and the bathroom had tempted either out from under the covers. It was more or less how every day had passed, and Diane had no complaints, but now that she had just one more evening in London, she was suddenly felt restless.

Nick looked at her, his hand tracing patterns across her back. “Does that mean we have to get dressed?” he asked.

Diane grinned at him. She’d worked hard to convince him that no matter what someone in his past said, she was wildly attracted to him, and her efforts seemed to be paying off. He was far more relaxed now, and she loved seeing his easy smile.

“Well, yes,” she told him, “but we can undress again when we come back.”

Nick pretended to consider it. “Alright,” he said, kissing her. “Was there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“Anywhere,” Diane said. “As long as it’s with you.”

+++

In the end central London had called, and several tube stations later they found themselves wandering together, hand in hand. They walked largely in silence along wet cobblestone streets; Diane hadn’t even noticed it was raining earlier. She didn’t know what to say. Her flight left the following morning, and although she knew Nick would come to the airport with her, it was still far too soon.

They’d talked about so many things this week, and there was almost nothing he could have asked her that she would not have answered. Diane felt her connection to him growing deeper with each murmured admission, and while she was enjoying the new sensation coursing through her veins, she knew there was part of her holding back from examining it too closely. There was always more time, something to distract her, some other conversation to have or tempting expanse of skin to kiss. Now, though, in this dark and somehow intimate time as they walked through the streets, holding hands was enough, and it allowed her mind to explore what she felt for Nick, putting a label on it at last.

She loved him.

The honest admission felt like a confession, as though the cost of holding it in was exhausting. Relief melted tension she didn’t even know she’d been harbouring, and when Nick squeezed her hand, she knew she couldn’t keep it to herself. There’d been too much reticence already, and the last thing she wanted to do was board another plane tomorrow having not told Nick exactly how she felt.

It still scared her, though. Two weeks ago she didn’t even know Nick existed, and now she was in love with him. She didn’t doubt that she did love him; it was as certain in her as the breath in her lungs, but what would he say? Who fell in love so entirely in less than two weeks? As they started crossing London Bridge, she took her courage in her hands and spoke.

“Tower Bridge,” she said, stopping to lean on the rail. “I loved it as a girl.” She glanced at him, heart pounding. She didn’t yet know how she’d steer the conversation in that direction so she just…talked. “My sister – she’s a few years older than me – used to tell me stories about the Tower of London.”

“About the horrors?” Nick asked, stopping beside her.

“What other stories are there?” Diane told him dryly. “Although she tended to exaggerate some parts of the stories and minimise others.”

“Real stories?” Nick asked.

“Real enough to me,” Diane said, shrugging. “I loved fairy tales. Stories of princesses locked in high towers, waiting to be rescued.”

“Not many were rescued,” Nick told her. “Mostly executed.”

“Not to me,” Diane said. She smiled, remembering. “Marie always gave them a happy ending. My favourite story was made up, though.”

“Do you remember it?” Nick asked.

“It was about a queen who lived in the tower,” Diane said, wrapping her arms around herself. She was a little cold, but mostly her brain had realised which story she was going to tell – and how it related to what she wanted to tell Nick. She took a deep breath.

“She and the king had married in secret, and when the story came out, powerful people wanted to kill her and overthrow the king, so the queen proposed he pretend to lock her up so he could remain king.” She smiled at the memory. “I loved it, for some reason. The king would sneak in at night to visit her and they would whisper sweet nothings under the moonlight.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I thought it was romantic.”

“It sounds like it,” Nick said seriously.

“As a child it was,” Diane said. “When I grew up a bit, I think I thought it was awfully noble of the queen, to give up so much for the man she loved.” She wrinkled her nose, mind wandering a little. “I have no idea where I got that idea from.”

“What idea?” Nick asked.

“That giving up everything for someone was romantic,” Diane said. Her smile faded a little, and her mouth added words without her brain’s permission. “It certainly didn’t help in my first marriage.”

Nick was silent, and Diane cursed herself for blurting out what was in her mind like that. She’d been hoping a conversation about romance would lead them to talk about their relationship, and here she was lamenting the failure of her marriage.

“And now?” Nick asked. “If someone was to give up…everything for someone they loved, what would you think?”

Diane frowned. There was an edge to his question that drew her out of her reminiscences. Slowly, she turned to look at him. He was leaning against the railing, eyes watching her with an uncertainty she’d thought was gone. He must have missed what she said about her first marriage, she thought. And from the look in his eyes – determination and fear, a combination she associated with the risks they’d taken with each other…

“What?” She wanted to ask more eloquently, but that was all that came out of her mouth. Her brain was whirring, wondering if…but surely…and if he did…all those incomplete thoughts bounded past each other, and it wasn’t until she took a deep breath, banishing them, that she could listen for what Nick would say.

Heart pounding, she felt Nick take one of her hands in his, and she saw the words in his eyes before he spoke. “I love you,” he said, and Diane was still processing that when he added, “so what would you think if I said I was considering moving to Dallas?”

Diane’s mouth dropped open. She’d been ready to smile, and kiss Nick and whisper her own love confession, still wondering a little what he’d meant…but this was more than she’d anticipated.

“Move?” she asked. “To…to Dallas?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding.

Diane knew she was staring, but her brain was running on all cylinders just to process this. She had no brain power left for speech for a long, silent moment.

“For me?” she asked, the words small between them.

He nodded, eyes still waiting guardedly for her reaction, but she didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Diane?” Nick asked apprehensively.

“I love you, too,” she blurted. “I didn’t expect…are you serious? About Dallas?” When he nodded, she blinked at him, feeling her mouth fall open. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, and now he was smiling a little. Bending, he kissed her with care, a reassuring press against her still slackened lips. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to be closer to you than London.”

“But...” Diane started. “Dallas is so far away.”

“Exactly,” Nick replied. “Entirely too far.”

Diane blinked, still not believing this was happening. “Okay,” she said, “I’ve got my head around one part of this conversation, but the rest is…” she trailed off, looking at Nick. He was standing close, his eyes warm and she could feel the love crossing the cold air between them. “More than I hoped for,” she finished, her voice thicker than she’d anticipated.

Nick smiled, then wrapped her in his arms again. She pressed her cheek into his chest, feeling his heart beating fast under her palm. He was as nervous as she’d been, Diane realised. So he’d been uncertain, too. That explained the look in his eye earlier.

“I can’t believe we met in Canada but it took us two thousand miles to figure this out,” Diane murmured.

Nick hummed. “Well,” he said, “now that you mention it…”

Diane looked up at him, frowning. “What?”

He grinned. “You already said you love me, right?”

“Why?” she said suspiciously, though warmth bloomed in her chest at how easily he’d incorporated that into their relationship.

“Do you actually remember the screech-in?” Nick asked.

“No,” Diane said, still frowning. “But that conversation we had the next day was weird.” She pointed a finger at him. “You were weird.”

“You really don’t remember it?” Nick asked.

“No,” Diane said, pulling away enough to be able to look him in the face properly. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t kiss the fish,” Nick told her.

“I didn’t?” Diane said. “But you said I did!”

“I said that because we were running out of time,” Nick told her. “We didn’t have time for a conversation, and I didn’t know how to tell you that when Claude offered you an alternative, you took it.”

“Nick Marson, will you just tell me what happened?” Diane said.

“You wouldn’t kiss the fish,” Nick said. “You convinced me to do it,” he shuddered, “but then you wouldn’t do it.”

“Oooh,” she winced. “Sorry. You probably didn’t really like me much after that.”

“Well,” Nick said, flushing, “actually, I did. Claude said,” Nick paused for effect, “’I’ll make you a deal. Either you kiss this fish or you kiss this Englishman you’re not married to.’”

Diane stared at him. “Seriously?”

“You made that decision very quickly,” Nick assured her. “I’d barely realised what he said when you launched yourself at me.”

“I what?” Diane said. Her face was warm now, almost certainly the same colour as Nick’s had been.

“Well, you were pretty determined,” Nick said, grinning at her mortification. “Someone told me recently I’m quite attractive, so it’s not surprising, really.”

Diane stared, caught between hiding her face in shame and bursting out laughing at his outrageous statement. “I’ve heard the same thing,” she said in the end, grinning widely. “From a very reliable source, actually.”

“Yes,” Nick replied. “Very trustworthy, but I think I’ll need to be reminded regularly. Just to be sure, you understand.”

“Yes,” Diane told him. “I can understand that.” She took a deep breath. “So you’ll be emailing your boss, then?”

“I’ll book a meeting with the CEO tomorrow,” he said. “If I’m as valuable as they say there shouldn’t be a problem transferring me to Dallas. In a position with a lot less travel,” he added.

“Wow,” Diane murmured. Impulsively she kissed him again. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe…wow.”

Nick’s arms were tight around her. “I know,” he said. “But I can’t let you go.”

“Good,” Diane said. They kissed again.

“Now if I recall,” Nick murmured, his voice low, just for her, “you promised we could undress again when we got home.”

“I did,” Diane replied, grinning into their kiss. “Should we head back that way, then?”

“I think we should,” Nick said. He smiled and hooked her hand through the crook of his elbow. Diane returned his smile, and a small part of her – the same part that was so certain about how much she loved him – mused that Newfoundland would make an excellent honeymoon destination.

That was something she might keep to herself for a little while. There was no rush now. Not with Nick already committing to something as huge as moving to Dallas. While they’d talked about marriage as a general idea, it was one of the few things they’d skirted around in their conversations. In retrospect, it was too closely linked with the love they hadn’t yet declared, but even now with that out in the open, Diane didn’t want to push.

She already had more than she’d ever anticipated.

“I’ll have to call David,” Diane mused. “Let him know when my flight comes in.”

“Amongst other things,” Nick added.

“Of course,” Diane replied, squeezing his arm. “Though that might be a better conversation to have in person.”

Nick hummed agreement.

“He’ll love you,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so,” Nick replied.

Diane didn’t reply, but when they arrived back at his apartment, she blurted, “He keeps telling me he wants me to be happy, and you make me happy, so it will be fine.”

Nick turned, hand still turning the key in the lock. He opened the door, then followed her in. “I hope I do,” he said. “And when we’re settled in Dallas, maybe we can talk about going back to Gander again.”

“On purpose?” Diane asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Nick said. “A special holiday, maybe.”

“Or a vacation,” Diane countered, grinning at him.

“Let’s compromise on a term we can both agree on,” Nick said, closing the door behind them.

“Such as?” Diane said, watching as he hung his coat and scarf.

“Honeymoon comes to mind,” Nick said with careful nonchalance. “Just a thought.”

Diane stared at him. “You need to stop making these declarations,” she said, stepping close and reaching up to kiss him. “I keep forgetting how to speak.”

Nick grinned, his fingers reaching for the buttons at his wrists.

“Hold on there,” Diane said, her fingers stilling over his. “I think that’s my job now.”

“Is it?” Nick asked, and his voice was breathy as she kissed his pulse points.

“Yes,” Diane replied. “For the foreseeable future.”

“Excellent,” Nick murmured.


End file.
